At the Teng Manor.

Teng Yu’yi stood gripping the Xiaoya Sword, watching as the figure drew closer along the corridor.

It was a young woman in her early twenties, her face bearing an unnatural swelling. Her abdomen appeared freshly pierced by a sharp blade, with blood soaking through her entire dress.

With each step the woman took forward, fresh blood gushed from the wound in her abdomen, flowing down her dress to the pool at her feet, quickly leaving a winding trail of blood along the corridor. Yet she seemed completely oblivious to any pain, continuing to advance rapidly while crying out: “Give it back to me!”

The woman’s voice was shrill. With each cry, the air grew colder, making Teng Yu’yi feel nauseous. Gripping her sword hilt tightly, she backed away while saying, “G-give what back? I haven’t taken anything of yours. This sword is very powerful – if you dare take another step closer, I’ll make your soul scatter instantly.”

But the woman only continued her mournful cries: “Give it back to me!”

Her form flickered, and in an instant, she was before Teng Yu’yi, who nearly fainted from the overwhelmingly thick stench of blood. She instinctively stepped backward while thrusting her sword forward, but it passed through empty air. When she turned her head, she found herself staring directly into the woman’s blood-red eyes.

The woman’s body suddenly lurched forward, her pale hands reaching to grab Teng Yu’yi’s throat. In desperation, Teng Yu’yi executed the Ghost-Subduing Sword technique that Master Cheng had taught her, raising her blade to slash horizontally at the woman’s arms.

The move was clean and decisive, meant to kill in one strike, but before it could connect, the woman’s ghostly form vanished once again.

Teng Yu’yi staggered backward until she hit the door, crying out loudly: “Duan Fu! Master Cheng!”

Suddenly, there came a muffled thud from behind the artificial mountain, as if something heavy had fallen. Teng Yu’yi froze, seemingly hearing someone gasping for breath.

Her heart stirred, and she turned to run along the corridor toward the sound. Near the artificial mountain, she spotted a large piece of clothing. Under the moonlight, she carefully examined the familiar-looking figure.

“Duan Fu?” she called out tentatively.

The dark figure shuddered violently.

It was indeed Duan Fu. Teng Yu’yi held her breath, taking two quick strides down the steps and rushing around the artificial mountain, only to be shocked by what she saw.

Duan Fu was half-kneeling on the ground with four grotesque imp-like ghosts clinging to his shoulders and back. His face was purple from strain as if bearing the weight of a mountain. Though he struggled to stand, he couldn’t even straighten his knees.

The imps’ eyes glowed an eerie blue-green as they either blew air into Duan Fu’s ears or wildly pulled at his hair.

Teng Yu’yi’s heart raced – so Duan Fu had arrived earlier, only to be immediately entrapped by these ghostly creatures.

She first struck at the imp on Duan Fu’s left shoulder. When hit, it dissipated into a wisp of smoke in the mist. The remaining imps shrieked chaotically, leaping to the ground before vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“Did you hear my calls for help?” Teng Yu’yi stepped forward to support Duan Fu. It was fortunate it was him – had it been anyone else trapped for so long, they might have already suffocated to death.

Duan Fu stood up, still catching his breath: “No, I didn’t hear. I just suddenly felt the courtyard grow ice-cold, and this old servant worried about Young Miss, so I climbed over the wall. Who knew I’d be trapped by these creatures.”

Having been through similar ordeals before, Teng Yu’yi was no longer surprised. She pulled out talismans from her sleeve and hastily handed them to Duan Fu: “They did this deliberately. Our small courtyard is probably like a prison now – no messages can get out. These creatures seem rather powerful. I need to call out Xiaoya and ask what’s going on. By the way, did those imps ask you to return anything?”

Duan Fu shook his head.

Teng Yu’yi said puzzledly: “That’s strange then. That woman kept saying ‘Give it back to me, give it back to me’ to me, as if I’d taken some treasure from her…”

Just as she was about to call out Xiaoya, Duan Fu suddenly looked up, his expression changing. His right arm reached past Teng Yu’yi’s shoulder, quickly deploying the talisman she had just given him.

Teng Yu’yi caught the thick scent of blood in the wind, knowing the female ghost had likely returned. She immediately turned her sword around and thrust backward with force, but before she could complete the strike, her throat was seized by a pair of ice-cold hands.

Teng Yu’yi’s vision darkened as her arms lost all strength.

In desperation, Duan Fu deployed several talismans, but the female ghost remained unmoved.

Duan Fu let out a low roar and reached bare-handed for the ghost’s shoulders. With his immense strength, this grab could easily crush someone’s shoulders, yet the ghost’s form suddenly became ethereal, impossible to grasp.

“Give it back to me!” the ghost wailed.

Teng Yu’yi was completely immobilized except for her eyes. She first signaled to Duan Fu with her gaze, then rolled her eyes downward.

Duan Fu immediately ceased attacking the woman and instead supported Teng Yu’yi’s right arm, helping her aim the sword tip at the ghost behind her. The small sword was useless in his hands – it only held power when wielded by Teng Yu’yi.

Teng Yu’yi gritted her teeth and exerted force. With Duan Fu helping her resist the ghost’s strength, the sword tip quickly rose to shoulder height. Just one backward thrust and the ghost would flee in fear of the blade.

But at that moment, several imps suddenly emerged behind Duan Fu, about to lock onto his neck again. Suddenly, a silver light flew through the night sky. The imps looked up and scattered in panic.

The silver light struck behind Teng Yu’yi, and the pressure on her neck suddenly released. She staggered backward several steps, clutching her throat and coughing violently. When she turned around in confusion, she saw the woman now bound by a silver chain around her neck.

Teng Yu’yi immediately recognized it as Ling Chengyu’s Soul-Binding Beast, though strangely, Ling Chengyu himself was nowhere to be seen. Then came the sound of rustling bamboo leaves above as someone leaped down.

The cold air dispersed instantly. Ling Chengyu held what looked like a string of sachets, each seeming to contain something alive and writhing.

Teng Yu’yi caught her breath, wondering if those contained the imps.

Ling Chengyu carefully surveyed the surroundings while asking Teng Yu’yi: “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Young Master-” Teng Yu’yi said gratefully.

She startled at her voice, which was extremely hoarse.

Ling Chengyu frowned – she sounded like a little duck. Looking at the purple marks on her neck, he took two strange-colored talismans from his sleeve and handed them to Teng Yu’yi: “Dissolve these in water and drink it. Your throat should feel better tomorrow.”

Teng Yu’yi: “Was Young Master awakened by the Spirit-Calling Bell?”

“What else?” Ling Chengyu gave her a sidelong glance. Perhaps due to the Jade Beauty Pill, her face was completely clear of any rash. Under the moonlight, her face reminded him of the snow-glazed rice balls he’d eaten that evening – soft and white.

Looking at her attire, she was wrapped tightly in a scarlet cape, with only a pair of peony-red silk shoes visible beneath.

He averted his gaze and turned toward the female ghost: “Teng Yu’yi, don’t you think you’ve been too unlucky lately? The Spirit-Calling Bell can’t be removed for now, and if it keeps making noise every few days, how am I supposed to get any sleep?”

Teng Yu’yi felt a chill down her spine, knowing denial would only make her seem guilty. She simply sighed: “I do seem rather unlucky. I’m quite sorry for disturbing Young Master’s rest. However, this female ghost tonight must have found the wrong person. She kept saying ‘Give it back to me,’ but I’ve never seen her before.”

“‘Give it back to me?’ She said that to you?”

Teng Yu’yi nodded and quickly caught up with Ling Chengyu’s pace, hearing the rustle of Duan Fu silently following behind them.

As he walked, Ling Chengyu casually picked up a branch from the ground. Approaching the female ghost, he bent down to draw a circle around her, then made a grabbing motion in the air with his right hand. The Soul-Binding Beast flew back to his sleeve like a silver star.

Though the silver chain disappeared from the ghost’s neck, she was immediately trapped by the formation Ling Chengyu had just drawn.

She clawed at the air, screaming heart-wrenchingly at Teng Yu’yi: “Give it back to me! Give it back to me!”

Teng Yu’yi: “See? She’s been like this since she appeared.”

Though she spoke confidently, her heart was filled with uncertainty. She still hadn’t figured out how the Life-Borrowing Technique worked. If it borrowed power from evil spirits that would be one thing, but what if it had borrowed the life force of a living person…

Could it be that she had borrowed this woman’s life?

Looking into the woman’s hate-filled eyes, she felt this possibility growing stronger. Given the woman’s tragic death, if she was truly responsible, she would gladly return the life force immediately.

Ling Chengyu scrutinized the female ghost up and down, suddenly seeming to notice something. He crouched down to examine her abdomen, and as he looked, his expression changed.

Teng Yu’yi, even more anxious than Ling Chengyu, hurriedly followed his gaze and quickly noticed what was wrong.

“What she lost is—” she gaped.

“The child in her womb,” Ling Chengyu said, his expression growing grave.

He glanced up at the woman and, as he stood, flicked a talisman from his fingertips. The paper floated down like a falling leaf onto the woman’s head. Her cries stopped abruptly, and her blood-red eyes cleared.

Ling Chengyu spoke gently: “What are you looking for? Would you like me to help you find it?”

The young woman’s ferocious expression gradually softened as she looked down blankly at her abdomen.

Ling Chengyu sighed: “Who did this to you?”

But the woman only screamed miserably again: “Give it back to me!”

With her cry, the talisman on her head instantly crumbled to dust.

Ling Chengyu frowned slightly and immediately flicked several more talismans, but the ghost’s violent energy showed no signs of diminishing—if anything, it grew more intense.

Perplexed, Ling Chengyu had no choice but to seal the female ghost into the sachet.

Teng Yu’yi looked at the sachet with trepidation: “It seems what she’s looking for is indeed her unborn child… In the case that the Chen Family’s Second Lady mentioned the other day—the wife’s manner of death was similar to this woman’s. I wonder if there’s any connection between them. Strange though, I have no connection to this female ghost, so why did she come after me?”

Ling Chengyu was also pondering this question. Setting aside whether tonight’s ghost was connected to the tragic case in Tongzhou, how had the ghost found the Teng Manor?

A thought occurred to him, and he surveyed the surroundings—could someone have tampered with something around this courtyard?

Suddenly, there came sounds from inside the house, with Du Tinglan calling out in panic: “Yu’er, Yu’er!”

The door opened, and Chunrong and the others rushed out first with lanterns: “Young Miss—”

They all froze at the scene before them.

Ling Chengyu glanced around casually and walked toward the courtyard wall: “Alright, I’ll figure out the ghost’s background as soon as possible. If you have any questions, I’ll have Juesheng and Qizhi ask you another day.”

Teng Yu’yi hesitated. Originally, she had been eager to return the bell, but tonight she realized that even with Juesheng and Qizhi’s talismans covering it, they couldn’t stop truly malevolent spirits. Before Ling Chengyu took away the Spirit-Calling Bell, it would be better to ask him to set up a spirit-warding formation inside and out.

She hurriedly called out sincerely: “Young Master, please wait. There’s one more thing I’d like to ask for your help with. Would you stay for a cup of hot tea before leaving?”

Hot tea?

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ling Chengyu said without turning around, though his steps slowed.

***

The maids lit lamps and prepared tea, and the once-quiet courtyard suddenly became lively.

Ling Chengyu sat at the round table, idly surveying his surroundings.

Though not particularly large, Teng Yu’yi’s courtyard was thoughtfully arranged. The main section contained four wing rooms, with another elegant chamber to the east. Between the elegant chamber and the main house ran a winding corridor, its sides filled with rare and precious flowers. The elegant chamber faced the central courtyard, with springs and rocks arranged behind it.

Ling Chengyu now sat in this elegant chamber.

He guessed this was where Teng Yu’yi usually read and wrote. The room’s furnishings were far more modest than he had imagined, with only a writing desk, a round table, a couch, and a landscape-painted silk screen. The only striking feature was three floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

The writing desk was placed by the window, with a plaque hanging above it bearing three characters: “Moon Above the Pool.”

Ling Chengyu had seen Teng Yu’yi’s handwriting before and immediately recognized it as hers. Displayed in the study, it was likely the name she had given to her small courtyard.

“Moon Above the Pool,” Ling Chengyu murmured to himself. It was quite original, far more refreshing than the usual “Flower,” “Fragrance,” or “Butterfly” that girls typically chose.

He wondered where she had seen such a beautiful scene—probably in Jiangnan. She had mentioned before that after nearly drowning, she had developed a fear of water. Now she became anxious at the mere sight of a pool. Perhaps she would only be able to appreciate such a scene of “Moon Above the Pool” again after she overcame this fear.

After waiting a while without seeing Teng Yu’yi enter, he unexpectedly caught a whiff of fragrance. The gilt dragon-patterned incense burner on the table had long since gone cold, but the scent came from the remaining incense cake inside.

Ling Chengyu recognized this fragrance—he had often smelled it on Teng Yu’yi since their time at the Caifeng Tower.

At first, he didn’t know the name of the fragrance, but recently he had caught its scent in the palace. Following the fragrance, he had unexpectedly found several clusters of beautiful flowers in a corner. Upon asking the palace staff, he learned they were roses—flowers with luxuriant blooms and an incomparable fragrance.

These flowers normally bloomed in early summer, but due to the recent fair weather in Chang’an and the skill of the palace gardeners, many buds had already appeared on the branches.

According to the gardener, these flowers had quite a temperament. Despite their beautiful blooms, the stems were covered in sharp thorns—one had to be extremely careful when admiring them, as a moment’s carelessness could result in being pricked.

Not many in Chang’an grew roses, and even fewer used them for incense. Perhaps this was why Teng Yu’yi particularly favored this flower.

After sitting for a while, finding the fragrance particularly distracting, Ling Chengyu stood and walked to the bookshelf. The shelves were filled with an extensive collection—thousands of volumes at least.

The books were a mix of old and new, not merely for show. Teng Yu’yi’s intelligence had much to do with her love of reading.

His gaze wandered over the shelves. The volumes were categorized systematically, each scroll hanging with ivory bookmarks in red, white, blue, and green. On windy days, these bookmarks would chime together in the study.

This was similar to the palace library, though he wondered what categories the red, white, blue, and green bookmarks represented in Teng Yu’yi’s system.

He was about to return to the round table when he happened to notice a large piece of Xianxi paper spread on the writing desk, covered in writing, the ink already dry.

He instinctively looked away but still accidentally caught glimpses of a few phrases—one was “Fire Swift Wind” and another was “Cherry Blossom Joy.”

They looked like attempts at naming something. Both “fire” and “cherry” suggested red—could she be busy naming that crimson steed?

He knew she had taken a liking to his red horse but hadn’t realized she was this fond of it. Looking at how seriously she was taking this, it was as if she had received some great treasure.

He felt like smiling—well, with such a protective owner, there was no need to worry about the crimson steed being mistreated in the future.

As he pondered this, footsteps approached from outside. The maids lifted the door curtain as Teng Yu’yi and Du Tinglan entered.

Teng Yu’yi had changed into a formal goose-yellow jacket and skirt, her hair properly arranged in a falling-horse bun.

Her throat had improved after drinking the talisman solution. As soon as she entered, she had the maids place steaming tea and refreshments on the small table, saying with a bright smile: “I feel terrible for disturbing Young Master so late. Please don’t mind the simple refreshments—just have something to tide you over.”

As she spoke, everyone in the room bustled about, the maids serving with particular care. Du Tinglan, feeling grateful, also showed a respectful demeanor.

The small table was quickly filled with an array of exquisite refreshments, each dish showing utmost craftsmanship.

Ling Chengyu was somewhat surprised—had Teng Yu’yi gathered every dessert from the kitchen?

Teng Yu’yi carefully observed Ling Chengyu’s expression. He was now their benefactor—setting aside his previous help, given tonight’s events, they would inevitably need to trouble him again in the future. She needed to maintain good relations with him, hence the especially grand reception.

Ling Chengyu looked around—everyone in the room was watching him.

After some thought, he casually selected a few pieces of dessert to eat. As he ate, he understood why Juesheng and Qizhi liked Teng Yu’yi’s desserts—like a child, she preferred sweetness, and the fillings were almost cloying.

Nevertheless, he finished them without showing any reaction.

Though Teng Yu’yi sat on the opposite side, her bright eyes followed Ling Chengyu’s every move. Seeing him finish the desserts, dimples appeared on her smiling cheeks as she gestured for Chunrong to bring the washbasin and tea. She said, “I was worried Young Master wouldn’t be accustomed to southern desserts.”

They were indeed a bit unfamiliar, thought Ling Chengyu as he drank the tea and cleaned his hands. He then spoke: “Tell me, what help do you need?”